


For now we're free

by angelswatchingover



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 4x11 Coda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:25:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelswatchingover/pseuds/angelswatchingover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Mickey patch each other up after the events of 4x11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For now we're free

They stumbled through the front door of the Gallagher home, practically holding each other up as they made their way to the kitchen to raid the freezer for frozen vegetables to cool their aching bodies.

When they got to the kitchen, however, the realized that they weren’t alone. A pretty girl with long brown hair was sitting on counter wearing nothing but panties and a long t-shirt of Lip’s and he was standing between her legs. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were tucked deep under her shirt. 

She noticed Mickey and Ian first, gasping and pulled back from Lip who swung around immediately exclaiming, “Holy shit! What happened to you two?”

“Terry got outa prison,” Ian explained as though that explained everything. He opened the freezer and began rooting for something to use as an ice pack. He grabbed a bag of green beans and tossed it to Mickey and found some frozen corn for himself. He grunted as he strained to pull his shirt up enough to put the ice on his aching rips, wincing at the cold and the bruises. 

“Fuck,” Lip breathed. “Mickey, listen, you know we’re cool with you staying here but there are kids here. Do we need to worry about their safety?”

“Simmer down, there, Mary Poppins,” Mickey grumbled. “No one’s in danger. His taste of freedom was short lived. Got himself thrown right back in the hole.”

Lip huffed a small laugh, “Must have been some Christening.”

Ian did one of those little laughs that pretty much melt Mickey’s stupid heart then moaned as pain shot through his ribs.

Lip seemed to suddenly remember that Amanda was behind him. “Oh, sorry. Guys, this is Amanda. Amanda, this is my brother, Ian and his… uh, this is Mickey. 

Ian grinned mischievously, “So what are we now, Mick? We using the ‘b’ word?”

“Fuck you! Only if that word is _bitch_! We’re together, OK?”

Ian seemed satisfied, smiling internally at his gruff _boyfriend_. Lip just raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear Mickey’s declaration but decided not to push it any further. 

“So this happened at a Christening?” Amanda said, gesturing to the boy’s broken faces. 

Lip deadpanned, “Yeah, they were at the Christening of the baby Mickey had with one of the Russian whores he pimps.”

Amanda, always one to roll with the punches, just rolled her eyes and said, “God, where were you guys an hour ago? You would have been good for another ten thousand.”

“Another ten thousand?” Ian asked Lip.

Lip cocked one eyebrow, “Amanda’s parents gave me ten grand to stop dating their daughter.” 

Ian’s mouth dropped open and his eyes were wide as he breathed, “Holy shit! You know what this means? That’s enough to get us by while Fi’s in prison!” 

Mickey shook his head disbelievingly, “Fuckin’ rich people!”

Amanda giggled, “And that’s just from a house full of kids and the stories about your family. Imagine what they would have done if my Bible banging parents had met your gay brother and the pimp he’s sleeping with, showing up looking like they just got back from Fight Club?”

Everyone in the kitchen burst into laughter and Mickey couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Ian made him smile like this. Couldn’t remember the last time he was this comfortable and happy, even through the pain in his face and hands and that fucking tooth that’s probably broken. 

Soon, the boys could barely stand on their own feet and they made their way up the stairs to the bathroom. Mickey leaned over the sink to splash water on his face, watching the blood and dirt swirl down the drain when he heard a groan from behind him. He stood up and turned around to see Ian struggling to get his shirt over his head, the movement obviously causing him pain.

“God, you’re a fucking pussy!” Mickey teased affectionately as he batted Ian’s hands away from his shirt and grabbed the hem to pull it over his head for his boyfriend. The bruises that stood out against Ian’s alabaster skin sickened him. A macabre rainbow of raw red skin surrounded the black and blue lines left by the chair that his asshole of an uncle had smashed over Ian’s back. He had to look away to control the anger that seethed under his skin at those marks.

“Shut up, I saved your ass didn’t I?” Ian looked at Mickey and now, in the light of the bathroom with some of the blood washed off he could see the distinct outline of Terry’s hand that left bruises around Mickey’s neck. The sight of those bruises made him sick. Mickey could have been killed. Terry actually tried to strangle his own son tonight.

The air hung heavy in the small bathroom as Ian reached up and ran his hand reverently over the bruises on Mickey’s neck and the gentle touch made Mickey weak in the knees. “You know you didn’t have to do that, Mick.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t have to do that. Didn’t want your little bitch ass running off and doing somethin’ stupid like join the Army again.”

“I never told you sorry about that, did I?”

“You should be. You ever do some shit like that again, I’ll find you and kick your ass.”

“Oh yeah, tough guy?” Ian moved closer to Mickey, faces only an inch apart. Ian smirked at Mickey knowing the effect that he had on him. 

And Mickey never could resist that look. He reached up and wrapped his hand around Ian’s neck and pulled the man in for a crushing kiss. Immediately, though, both men groaned in pain as their broken mouths collided. 

“Fuck!” Mickey complained as he pulled back, “I’m exhausted. Let’s get some sleep.”

The men each took a turn taking a quick shower, washing the blood, sweat and muck off of their bruised bodies. When Mickey walked into the bedroom, Ian was already in bed, laying on his back shirtless with his eyes closed. Mickey stopped in the doorway as the sight of Ian took his breath away. There wasn’t a lot of beauty in Mickey’s life. Very little on the south side of Chicago could ever be described as beautiful. He was surrounded by the hard, gritty, dirty, rough life of the ghetto. Of poverty and violence, drugs and whores, and the constant undercurrent of desperation.

But standing there looking at Ian he realized that beauty did exist. In fact it didn’t just exist, it could be his. Ian was _his_ , his reward for having the courage to stand and be who is truly is. Ian is a thing of beauty laying here with miles of soft white skin under a speckling of light freckles just waiting to be touched. His body is toned, hard muscle under silk flesh. And Ian’s hair! Fuck, that red hair was pure passion and fire and sunsets. 

He quietly closed the door and sat down onto the bed next to Ian, slowing his movements when he heard the redhead suck in a breath in pain. Ian opened his eyes, smiling when Mickey traced his fingers over Ian’s bruised hand. 

“I know I didn’t have to do that tonight,” Mickey said softly, “but I’m really fucking glad I did.”

Ian reached up and caressed Mickey’s neck. “It was a dumb fucking move. You could have been killed, Mickey. I just wanted to be a part of your life.”

“Ian, you are my life. And I was just so tired of being afraid of my dad and my wife. Who needs them? You’re my family now. I told you what we have makes me free. What I didn’t realize was that what I was doing to you kept you from being free too. Fuck, I was treating you like one of those old queers you used to fuck. You’re not my mistress. You deserve better than that.”

Ian’s eyes welled up and Mickey didn’t want to see that, couldn’t see Ian cry again. So instead he leaned down for a gentle kiss. This time neither man groaned in pain. They both melted into the feeling of each other’s lips and the taste of one another. 

Ian gently took Mickey’s face in his hands and maneuvered him so that he could kiss every cut and bruise on the man’s face, gently, one at a time. Mickey moaned in pleasure at the affection. He had never let himself have this before, never been treated with such reverence, never felt treasured. Ian brought out all new feelings in him, things he had never experienced. Ian gladly gave him comfort, love, safety, friendship. No one, not even his own parents had ever treated him this way. And he knew he made the right decision. He knew he could never go back, not after experiencing this. He could never let Ian go again.

Mickey laid down next to Ian and Ian brought himself up on his elbow to continue worshiping Mickey’s injuries with his lips. Mickey shivered at the feeling of Ian’s hot breath over the delicate skin of his neck. Ian covered every bruise with kisses, washing away the stain of Terry’s hands around his son’s throat. And when he was done there, he laid his head back on his pillow and brought Mickey’s hand to his lips, covering the bloody bruised knuckles with more kisses. 

Finally, Mickey couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t let himself be loved and cared for like this, not in the tender way that Ian touched him. He sat up and swung a leg over Ian’s thighs, straddling the man below him, seizing the upper hand. 

Ian let him, let him take and control as he stared up at the man he loved so much. Mickey hovered over him, breathing heavily as his eyes roamed down over Ian’s gorgeous body. But he stopped cold when his eyes met those bruised ribs. Taking his cue from Ian, he leaned over and placed one soft kiss on Ian’s chest, covering a bruise with his mouth and Ian hummed in approval. 

Emboldened by Ian’s reaction, Mickey continued his benediction, blessing Ian’s body with his lips and his tongue, wiping away the sins of his father that had left marks on the man he loved. Ian’s hands threaded through his hair as the redhead leaned his head back and arched his back seeking the comfort of Mickey’s touches. 

“Never again,” he whispered into Ian’s skin, “I’ll never let him hurt us again.”

And just for this moment, in the quiet comfort of his bed in the home that meant family both men believed it. Neither knew what the future held for them. Mickey still had a child and he really didn’t trust the way his uncles had looked at him. And who knows what shit Svetlana could get up to working with Terry, even from prison. 

But for now he wouldn’t think about any of that. For now it was just Mickey and Ian and for the first time in his life he felt free.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I just can't get enough of these two and I think I've found new muses. I can't wait to write more of Ian and Mickey! So feel free to share your comments and Gallavich feels. I'd love to hear your thoughts and get motivated to write more fics during this too long hiatus.


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